Page:Irish Melodies.djvu/37

Rh ! think not my spirits are always as light,
 * And as free from a pang, as they seem to you now;

Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night
 * Will return with to-morrow to brighten my brow.

No, life is a waste of wearisome hours,
 * Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns;

And the heart, that is soonest awake to the flowers,
 * Is always the first to be touched by the thorns!

But send round the bowl, and be happy awhile;
 * May we never meet worse, in our pilgrimage here,

Than the tear that enjoyment can gild with a smile,
 * And the smile that compassion can turn to a tear.

The thread of our life would be dark, heaven knows!
 * If it were not with friendship and love intertwin'd;

And I care not how soon I may sink to repose,
 * When these blessings shall cease to be dear to my mind!